


Warriors Rewrite - Into the Wild

by makirolls



Series: Warrior Cats Rewrite [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Warrior cats rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makirolls/pseuds/makirolls
Summary: Fire Alone Can Save Our Clan...For generations, four Clans of wild cats have shared the forest according to the laws laid down by their warrior ancestors. But the ThunderClan cats are in grave danger, and the sinister ShadowClan grows stronger every day. Noble warriors are dying - and some deaths are more mysterious than others.In the midst of this turmoil appears an ordinary house cat named Rusty... who may turn out to be the bravest warrior of them all.----I'm basically rewriting the Warriors series because I want to!!! Hope you enjoy
Series: Warrior Cats Rewrite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064189
Kudos: 11





	1. Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr blog for my rewrites/au is https://squirrelcrow-po3.tumblr.com/ !!

This is a abbreviated allegiances. For one with edited family relationships, here is a doc: [click](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CDphwumxOOyIQSSRZ-c_fnHTYFgbesIVqvaViPfshK0/edit?usp=sharing)

* * *

 **ThunderClan**

Leader: Icestar (Bluestar) - a tall, well-muscled blue point molly with pale blue eyes and a scar on her shoulder. 

Deputy: Foxtail (Redtail) - a small, fluffy red tortoiseshell tom with bright green eyes and a ginger tail. [Apprentice: Dustpaw]

Medicine Cat: Spottedleaf - a small, fluffy dark red dappled molly with bright green eyes. [Apprentice: Ravenpaw]

Warriors: 

  * Lionheart - a huge, long-haired golden tabby tom with amber eyes. [Apprentice: Flintpaw]
  * Tigerclaw - a large, muscular brown tabby tom with amber eyes and long claws. [Apprentice: Darkpaw]
  * Erminestrike (Whitestorm) - a silky-furred tom with a pure white pelt and yellow eyes. [Apprentice: Sandpaw]
  * Flashfoot (Runningwind) - a sleek, slender dusty brown tabby tom with green eyes.
  * Mousefreckle (Mousefur) - a small, plump dusty brown molly with amber eyes.
  * Willowcloud (Willowpelt) - a big, well-built pale gray molly with bright blue eyes.
  * Leopardsmoke (Leopardfoot) - a large, smoky brown spotted molly with amber eyes. [Apprentice: Ferretpaw]
  * Rosewish (Rosetail) - a spiky-furred brown molly with red splotches and green eyes.
  * Patchsong (Patchpelt) - a small, slender white and brown tom with amber eyes.



Apprentices: 

  * Ferretpaw (Longtail) - a slender silver shaded tom with a sandy belly and green eyes.
  * Darkpaw (Darkstripe) - a sleek dark gray tom with black stripes and amber eyes. 
  * Dustpaw - a short, dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes.
  * Flintpaw (Graypaw) - a plump, long-haired gray tom with a stripe along his back and yellow eyes.
  * Ravenpaw - a small, slender black tom with white markings and green eyes. 
  * Sandpaw - a lanky sandy brown molly with spiky fur and green eyes.



Queens: 

  * Frostberry (Frostfur) - a slim molly with mostly white fur with pale ginger patches and blue eyes. [Kits: Cinderkit, Brightkit]
  * Brindleface - a sleek-furred molly with gray tortoiseshell color points and green eyes. [Pregnant]
  * Goldenflower - a large, long-haired molly with golden tabby fur and amber eyes. [Kits: Swiftkit, Lynxkit]
  * Speckledawn (Speckletail) - a large, fluffy white molly with large golden brown patches and amber eyes. [Permanent]



Elders: 

  * Sparrowpelt (Halftail) - a pale brown tabby tom with amber eyes and a cut off tail.
  * Smallear - a small, gray and white tom with yellow eyes and folded ears.
  * Foggygaze (One-eye) - a pure white molly with one amber eye, the other being injured.
  * Dapplestep (Dappletail) - a fluffy brown tortoiseshell molly with light green eyes.
  * Thrushlight (Thrushpelt) - a light brown tom with markings on his chest and green eyes.



* * *

**ShadowClan**

Leader: Brokenstar - a large, long-haired dark brown tabby with amber eyes.

Deputy: Murkyfoot (Blackfoot) - a muscular dark brown colorpoint tom with blue eyes.

Medicine Cat: Sagenose (Runningnose) - a small, gangly gray and white tom with green eyes.

Warriors: 

  * Clawface - a brown and white tom with amber eyes and many scars. [Apprentice: Littlepaw
  * Boulderstripe (Boulder) - a big, skinny silver-gray tabby tom with blue eyes. [Apprentice: Wetpaw]
  * Stumpytail - a dark brown tabby tom with green eyes and a short tail. [Apprentice: Barkpaw]
  * Flintfang - a thick-furred tom with black and gray patches and amber eyes.
  * Wolfstep - a pure black tom with green eyes and a torn ear.
  * Scorchwind - a ginger tabby tom with a white belly and green eyes.
  * Nightbreeze (Nightpelt) - a skinny, ragged black tom with yellowish-green eyes.
  * Tallpoppy - a long-legged light brown tabby molly with yellow eyes.
  * Cinderdust (Cinderfur) - a thin dark gray and white tom with yellow eyes.
  * Fernshade - a small, dark tortoiseshell molly with yellow eyes.
  * Tangleburr - a speckled white and brown molly with green eyes.
  * Deerfoot - a white and brown spotted tom with green eyes.
  * Rowanberry - a cream and brown molly with amber eyes.
  * Newtspeck - a fluffy, brindle tortoiseshell molly with yellow eyes.
  * Nutwhisker - a sleek-furred brown tom with dark amber eyes.
  * Russetblaze (Russetfur) - a large, leanly muscled dark ginger molly with green eyes.
  * Finchflight - a small black and white bicolor tom with blue eyes.



Apprentices: 

  * Barkpaw (Brownpaw) - a small, scrawny brown tom with amber eyes.
  * Wetpaw - a speckled gray and white tom with green eyes.
  * Littlepaw - a very small, light brown tabby tom with bright blue eyes.



Queens: 

  * Brightflower - an orange tabby molly with amber eyes and a flat face. [Foster Kits: Brackenkit, Thornkit]
  * Darkflower - a large, muscular pure black molly with blue eyes. [Pregnant]
  * Dawncloud - a small, pale ginger tabby molly with blue eyes. [Kits: Swampkit, Blossomkit]
  * Ashheart - a solid pale gray molly with blue eyes. [Kits: Turtlekit, Quietkit, Rubblekit]



Elders: 

  * Archeye - a gray tabby tom with patchy fur and green eyes.
  * Ashfleck (Ashfur) - a thin, long-bodied solid gray tom with yellow eyes.
  * Hollyflower - a sleek, long-legged dark gray and white molly with blue eyes.
  * Featherstorm - a dark brown tabby molly with yellow eyes.
  * Blizzardwing - a mottled white and brown tom with green eyes.
  * Frogtail - a dark gray tabby tom with green eyes and a bobbed tail.



* * *

**RiverClan**

Leader: Crookedstar - a huge, light brown tabby tom with green eyes and a twisted jaw.

Deputy: Oakheart - a large, plump dark ruddy brown tom with amber eyes. [Apprentice: Silverpaw]

Medicine Cat: Mudspots (Mudfur) - a small, skinny light brown bengal tom with yellow eyes.

Warriors: 

  * Leopardsky (Leopardfur) - a large, golden bengal molly with amber eyes.
  * Graypool - a fluffy dark gray and white molly with yellow eyes.
  * Mistyfoot - a tall, lithe blue molly with blue eyes and one white paw.
  * Stonemask (Stonefur) - a tall brownish gray point tom with blue eyes. [Apprentice: Shadepaw]
  * Loudbelly - a dark brown and white tom with green eyes.
  * Darkclaw (Blackclaw) - a leanly muscled smoky black tom with orange eyes.
  * Mosswave (Mosspelt) - a dark calico molly with a white chest and blue eyes.
  * Frogleap - a gray lynx point time with green eyes.
  * Dawnbright - a white and ginger bicolor molly with green eyes.
  * Mallowsprout (Mallowtail) - a ginger and brown mottled molly with green eyes.
  * Skyheart - a pale brown tabby molly with green eyes.
  * Petaldust - a dark tortoiseshell molly with yellow eyes.
  * Volebite (Voleclaw) - a grayish brown tabby tom with blue eyes.
  * Beetlenose - a broad-shouldered black tom with yellow eyes.
  * Owljump (Oakfur) - a sleek-furred brown and white tom with green eyes.
  * Softwing - a small ginger and white molly with green eyes.
  * Snowfang (Whitefang) - a white tom with a brown tail and blue eyes.
  * Sedgecreek - a soft-furred light brown tabby molly with blue eyes.
  * Reedtail - a pale gray tabby tom with green eyes and a long, thin tail.
  * Ottersplash - a pale ginger and white molly with green eyes.
  * Rippleclaw - a sleek, silver tabby tom with green eyes.
  * Lakeshine - a mottled gray and white molly with blue eyes.
  * Cedarpelt - a stout, brown lynx point tom with green eyes.



Apprentices: 

  * Shadepaw - a dark gray molly with pale blue eyes.
  * Lightpaw (Whitepaw) - a dark gray tom with blue eyes and one white paw.
  * Silverpaw - a soft-furred silver tabby molly with blue eyes.



Queens: 

  * Sunfish - a pale gray tabby molly with yellow eyes. [Kits: Vixenkit, Cloverkit. Foster Kit: Silverpaw]
  * Grassflower (Greenflower) - a plump, brown tabby molly with green eyes. [Kits: Otterkit, Heavykit]



Elders: 

  * Piketooth - a shaggy, brown tabby tom with yellow eyes and long canines.
  * Shimmerpelt - a glossy-furred, pure black molly with blue eyes.
  * Birdsong - a long-haired cream and white molly with brown eyes.
  * Tanglewhisker - a ragged brown tabby molly with brown eyes.



* * *

**WindClan**

Leader: Tallstar - a slender, black bicolor tom with amber eyes and a long tail.

Deputy: Deadfoot - a small, lean black tom with one green eye and one yellow eye.

Medicine Cat: Barkface - a dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes and a short tail.

Warriors: 

  * Mudclaw - a small tom with wiry brown tabby fur and amber eyes. [Apprentice: Webpaw]
  * Tornear - a small, gray speckled tom with wiry fur and blue eyes. [Apprentice: Runningpaw]
  * Doespring - a light brown tabby molly with blue eyes.
  * Plumclaw - a small, dark gray molly with dark green eyes.
  * Cloudrunner - a plump white and ginger tom with green eyes. [Apprentice: Dandelionpaw]
  * Aspenfall - a lithe, gray and white bicolor tom with yellow eyes.
  * Hickorynose - a dark gingery brown with green eyes.
  * Meadowslip - a pale gray and black molly with yellow eyes.
  * Sorrelbelly - a pale gray molly with brown patches and yellow eyes.
  * Pigeonhop - a small, gray and white tom with green eyes.
  * Rabbitswipe - a fluffy pale cream molly with yellow eyes.
  * Flywhistle - a fluffy, pure white tom with amber eyes. [Apprentice: Onepaw]
  * Bristlebird - a fluffy black and white tom with yellow eyes.



Apprentices: 

  * Runningpaw - a light gray tabby molly with light blue eyes.
  * Webpaw - a small, plump dark gray tom with amber eyes.
  * Onepaw - a tall, slender black tom with amber eyes and one white whisker.
  * Dandelionpaw (Whitepaw) - a small, pure white molly with yellow eyes and a fluffy tail.



Queens: 

  * Ashfoot - a large, muscular gray point molly with pale blue eyes. [Kits: Eaglekit, Downkit, Hillkit]
  * Morningflower - a pale ginger calico point molly with amber eyes. [Pregnant]



Elders: 

  * Crowfur - a graying black tom with yellow eyes and patchy fur.
  * Flailfoot - a small black tom with bright yellow eyes.
  * Hawkheart - a gray and white speckled tom with yellow eyes.



* * *

Outsiders

  * Rusty - a fluffy reddish-orange tom with green eyes and folded ears.
  * Smudge - a plump black and white bicolor tom with amber eyes.
  * Barley - a brownish cream and white bicolor tom with blue eyes.
  * Boartusk - an old pale tortoiseshell molly with amber eyes and a flat face.




	2. Prologue

Tufted ears pricked at the sound of scurrying across the yellowing, dead grass below. A dark brown form nearly pounced from the brush, but a darker figure had already claimed the rodent, clenching fur in their jaws. “Good job, Ravenpaw,” a voice called, slithering beside Tigerclaw and stepping from the sparse bush. “I see Spottedleaf is teaching you well.” The small black cat gave an enthusiastic nod. “Of course, Foxtail! You know your sister is the smartest in the Clan,” the apprentice replied. The tortoiseshell gave a stifled laugh in response. “Yes, she never fails to remind me.”

Tigerclaw finally left the covering of the dead greenery to meet the other two cats. “This is a patrol - not time to chat,” he said with a grunt. Suddenly, a smaller molly leaped down from the tree branches above. “Oh calm down,” she said to the older warrior with a flick of her tail. “Ravenpaw already caught something, so we can relax.” Foxtail stiffened slightly. “A mouse doesn’t feed our whole clan, Mousefreckle. You know this,” he sighed. The molly nodded gravely. The deputy turned to walk off, motioning with his tail for the others to follow. “Now, keep quiet. We’re approaching RiverClan territory.”

Ravenpaw padded after his mentor’s brother, trying to hide the scent of fear beginning to emanate from him. He had never been to the Sunning Rocks before, let alone so close to RiverClan. The group of cats stalked from the safety of the trees towards the river. The small black cat’s eyes lit up with the moonlight glittering off the rocks under his paws. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. His gaze was ripped upwards once the cats had spotted a plump vole by the riverbank. Tigerclaw’s posture quickly lowered into a crouch, preparing to spring onto the rodent. But again, a flash of fur swooped in and snatched the prey before he could strike. A frustrated growl bubbled in his throat, expecting one of his clanmates to celebrate their catch before he realized who had caught the vole. “RiverClan!” he hissed, lunging forward at the foreign warrior.

The tortoiseshell snapped up. “Tigerclaw, no!” he screamed. The brown tabby lifted his head in confusion and whipped his head towards the water to see several cats snaking from the bank. He should have known more RiverClan warriors were lying in wait. “Ravenpaw! Get out of here!” the deputy shouted at the apprentice, who quickly scampered off into the bushes. He refused to let any apprentice, especially the medicine cat’s, be injured in a border scuffle. Quickly, another tom tackled Tigerclaw off his clanmate. Most of the RiverClan warriors were unrecognizable to the ThunderClan cat, but he knew this one. How could he not? “Oakheart,” he hissed, “how dare you allow your Clan to hunt here? The Sunning Rocks belong to us.” The ruddy tom stifled a laugh. “After tonight, not anymore,” Oakheart said lowly. He raised up a paw to claw at him, but the larger ThunderClan cat kicked his legs into the other tom’s belly, pushing him off.

“ThunderClan, retreat!” Foxtail announced, realizing that they were fighting a losing battle. Three warriors winning against a majority of RiverClan was not possible, no matter how much Foxtail hated to admit defeat. The sound of yowling cats made Tigerclaw’s ears fall, but he wasn’t going to give up so easily. “Mousefreckle, help me!” he said, defying Foxtail and running back towards the water and incoming RiverClan warriors. The molly glanced between her two clanmates before begrudgingly following after Tigerclaw. The deputy grumbled to himself before chasing them down the hill. Tigerclaw had gone back after Oakheart, while Mousefreckle was fighting off two RiverClan warriors much larger than himself. Foxtail saw that she was obviously losing, but stayed back for a moment. When one of the cats bit down on the dusty molly’s neck, he rushed in and shoved him off her. “Mousefreckle! Listen to me! Get out of here, now!” he screamed in her face. Her ears pinned against her head as she rushed off towards the treeline with her tail between her legs. The tortoiseshell then grabbed Tigerclaw by the scruff and tore the larger tom away from Oakheart. He didn’t need to say anything, just ran away from the river. The tabby glanced back to Oakheart with narrowed eyes before running after his clanmates. “RiverClan will never be defeated!” he heard a voice cry as he ducked into the shrubbery.

* * *

Icestar’s paws were tense against the short grass as she gazed up at the sky. Another molly padded from her den and sat down beside her with a small, reassuring smile. “How is she?” the leader asked her. “Mousefreckle will heal in time. There is no need to worry, Icestar,” the medicine cat responded, placing her tail on the other molly’s lower back to calm her. “Thank you, Spottedleaf,” Icestar said. “I just worry about Foxtail and Tigerclaw… They haven’t returned with Ravenpaw.” She shook her head, her brows knitted together. “I knew they shouldn’t have gone but Tigerclaw insisted. ThunderClan hasn’t been beaten since I became leader.” Spottedleaf tried not to show that she was worried for her apprentice as well. “The first defeat after many victories is always the sourest,” she said, following Icestar’s gaze up to the sky, “StarClan has been silent for the past moons.” The leader next to her sighed in defeat. Beyond that, silence rang between the two mollies.

Suddenly, light flooded the dark night sky, making Spottedleaf’s eyes go wide and fur stand on end. Visions of blazing storms ravaging the forest filled the mollies head; a small, starry cat was standing in the center of the destruction. The cat stepped forward, placing their paw in the center of the medicine cat’s chest. Their touch seemed gentle, but she felt like she was suffocating, the heat of the fire beating against her pelt and filled her chest. Words came from her trembling mouth as her sight was restored, returning her to ThunderClan’s camp. “Fire…” the tortoiseshell muttered, “fire alone will save our Clan.” The leader gave her a quizzical look.

“Fire?” she gawked, “fire only brings destruction to the forest… It would ruin our Clans!” Spottedleaf’s troubled expression only grew as she winced in pain. “I’m not sure what it means, Icestar. But that is what StarClan wished for us to know.” The blue cat nodded solemnly, brushing her fur against the medicine cat’s to ease her. “Then it shall be. Fire will save our Clan.”

* * *

Tigerclaw didn’t dare say a word as he walked behind Foxtail towards camp. Suddenly, the other tom stopped and turned his head. “I don’t think I have to say this, but I hope you realize the mistake you made tonight.” The brown tabby’s eyes glared down at the smaller cat.

“RiverClan was hunting on our territory, how could you allow that?” Tigerclaw snapped. “Our cats must be fed. Goldenflower and my kits must be fed.” He thought of his mate and kits back in camp. Foxtail barely flinched at his clanmate’s harsh words. “And now they might not be because of you.” He flicked his tail dismissively. “Now get back to camp and apologize to Mousefreckle for almost getting her killed. You’ll be cleaning the elder’s den for this.” The idea of them going hungry pained him more than he could explain.

Tigerclaw couldn’t hold back a hiss. “I’m not a tiny apprentice you can boss around,” he spat, pushing past Foxtail to pad into camp. The deputy didn’t take a moment to think before blurting out: “well you’re acting like one.” The brown tom growled, whipping his whole body towards Foxtail. He had barely heard the rustling of tiny paws moving through the bushes as anger clouded his vision...


	3. 01.

Dead leaves crunched under Rusty’s small paws as he stalked through the trees. The sound contrasted with the relative silence of the rest of the forest. A flash of gray fur had caught his eye, and he began to pursue the prey somewhat clumsily. His heart thumped in his chest as he came upon the small mouse just a few tail-lengths away from him. It sat up on its hind legs, sensing him once he was near. The young cat fell into an awkward crouch, hoping that it hadn’t seen him.

Once the rodent got back down and began smelling at the ground, Rusty launched himself forward with his short hind legs. He batted the mouse towards a tree before jumping back onto it, clenching it between his paws. He knocked the creature back and forth as if it were a toy, dazing it enough that it wouldn’t run away each time he hit it away.

A clattering noise made his ears stand on-end. Like something hard on metal, which confused him. Once he was distracted, the prey managed to slip from his claws and scampered off. Rusty grumbled with annoyance as he watched the gray form disappear into the forest. He stood there for a moment, allowing the cool breeze to bristle through his fluffy fur, especially around his neck where his collar was typically clasped. The freedom felt amazing, despite losing the mouse.

However, the disappointment of letting his potential prey escape rang in his mind. But in a moment, the darkness of the woods lit up with white light. It hurt to look at, causing Rusty to squint at the sight. A glowing feline stepped from the shadows and placed the escaped piece of prey at his paws. Rusty looked from the mouse back to the starry cat with his mouth agape. He felt something ripple through his fur as the other cat glanced down at him with a calm smile.

He heard a voice say words he couldn’t understand, making him turn away from the figure before him. It was echoed and muffled. Maybe it was his name but he wasn’t sure. The cat in front of him made everything feel so surreal, even if it just smiled at him and did nothing else. Then, he felt a force press on his back, making his eyes go wide. It wasn’t hard enough to cause pain but startled him. 

He blinked frantically at his paws, realizing that he was now laying down and upon lifting his head, he realized he was back in his den. The stark, still air of the room contrasted to the crisp wind he felt in his dream. He glanced up at his Twoleg patting his back before they stood up and walked from the room. He presumed they would go to bed soon since they always fed him beforehand. Rusty stretched out with a yawn and padded over to his bowl, taking in a mouthful of pellets his owner had put in. He wished it was the taste of mouse on his tongue, but he was somewhat satisfied with the food he was given. They had a bland taste, but it filled his aching belly.

Instead of going back to his cozy nest, Rusty ducked out of the flap leading out of his den. He stepped out into the garden with a deep breath. Fresh dew clung to the well-trimmed blades of grass as they shifted when he walked. His owners took such good care of their garden, it confused him. The sickeningly sweet smell of the flowers his Twolegs grew made Rusty’s lips curl, but he made his way past them to leap up onto the fence posts. He enjoyed sitting there on nights like these. It gave him an excellent view of his neighbor's gardens and, more importantly, the dense greenery of the forest just outside his yard. The one he had dreams about multiple times since the last full moon.

He heard his name called from the entrance of the den - he knew his owners wanted him to return inside, they didn’t like for him to stay out too late. But tonight, something was telling him not to come back. It was hard to ignore the thoughts of warmth and gentle pets he was greeted with when he would curl up in his Twolegs’ nest. But the forest seemed to be pulling him away from all that. Once he looked back from the yard to the forest, he noticed something walking through the trees. A gentle glow cutting through the shadows of the canopy of trees. It was a figure similar to those from his dreams: a shiny, starry cat prancing through the greenery. His posture straightened in surprise.

“Hey, wait!” Rusty called, jumping down from the fence. The bell around his neck jingled and that, in combination with his yelling, alerting the figure to his presence. They darted back into the forest, slowly disintegrating into shimmering dust as they went. Rusty’s expression softened with disappointment. He hated the feeling of not knowing if what he was seeing was real. Perhaps he was just seeing things. Maybe it would be best just to return to his nest.

More jingling was heard from behind him as a cat jumped up on the fence. “Hey, Rusty,” the cat said. The ginger tom turned around with a flick of his ear. “Oh. Hey, Smudge,” he replied. “You’re out late tonight.” The black and white tom smirked. “Well, I was gonna go to bed but…” he began, reaching his hind leg to itch underneath his collar. “I saw you by the woods and got worried about you! You’re not goin’ in there, are you?” Rusty shifted a bit, glancing uncomfortably towards the forest. “Uhm. I was just thinking I’d take a little look,” he replied nervously. 

“But!” Smudge said. “It’s dangerous there!” Rusty raised a brow quizzically. “Oh yeah, have you ever been in there?” Smudge gave a tiny shrug. “Hmm… no… But Henry went in there!” The ginger tom couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Really? _Henry_ went in there? He’s so lazy, he barely leaves his den anymore.”

“He told me he caught a robin in there, though!” the black and white tom responded, giving Rusty a worried look. “There are wildcats who kill and eat each other! And their claws are so sharp they can cut through trees!” The ginger cat frowned. “Well, I’ll only be in there for a bit. I’m sure those ‘wildcats’ won’t even notice me.” Rusty barely gave any attention to Smudge’s final “don’t say I didn’t warn you!” when he turned to walk off into the forest. The other house cat hopped back into his garden without another word. Trying to dissuade Rusty from going was impossible at this point. 

The ginger cat immediately noticed that the grass just beyond the fence was thicker and more bristled than that of the garden - like that of a startled cat. It felt strange underneath his paws, poking at his pads. He gave a few rasps across his fluffy chest fur to calm his nerves. What if what Smudge said was true? It couldn’t be. It was far too ridiculous. But the ‘what if’ was bugging him out of his mind as he vanished into the thick trees.

A sense of recollection came flooding back when a mouse scampered a small distance away, scuttling around some nearby brambles. It was just like his dreams! He tried to remember back to what he did wrong last time, but the round of his collar ringing every time he walked hindered him from doing so. He crouched, narrowing his eyes in anticipation as a spark shot through his body. Rusty’s haunches shifted back and forth as he prepared to jump forward, and he was grateful that his bell only rang dully as he moved from side to side. 

However, the sudden sound of cracking twigs made both him and the rodent jump. And if that didn’t scare the creature away, his bell’s sudden ring certainly did. Rusty watched sadly as the prey ran off as it had in his dreams. But this time, no mystical figure reclaimed the prize for him. As he stood frozen still, he noticed a bushy tail waving through a patch of ferns. He strained his nose to scent what it possibly could be. The abundance of new smells overwhelmed him, but he could tell it wasn’t a dog or any cat he had ever smelled. The scent of prey clung to the strange creature. Rusty became too curious and began to pad towards it. But then, the tail disappeared into the shrubbery, and the rustling began to sound all around the house cat. He whipped his head around in confusion, trying to find where the noise was coming from. However, it sounded as though it was all around him at once. The fur on his spine stood up as the sound of pawsteps crept up behind him. Before he could realize it, the sound became louder and louder, until it was just a few tail-lengths behind him.

His pursuer crashed into him at full force, slamming him into the trunk of a nearby oak. Rusty yowled once the creature jumped onto his back. Every time he writhed to shake it off of him, its needle claws and teeth clump to his pelt even tighter. The house cat was thrown onto his side by the weight on top of him and, trying to think fast, he rolled onto his back. The creature didn’t catch onto his ploy and, remembering how he would fight with his siblings as a kit, he pushed on its belly with his back paws as hard as he could. It wasn’t enough to knock his attacker off of him, but he heard the creature wheeze as the breath was kicked out of it. 

Under the weight of the creature, he wriggled from its weakened grasp. Once he scrambled up to his paws, Rusty rushed back towards the familiar glow of his Twolegs’ den in the distance. The sound of dead leaves crunching let him know he was still being chased. The pain stung under his pelt as he ran, slowing him down before he could get a good distance between him and the creature. As the situation sunk in, Rusty realized it would be more likely that he would be tackled again before he made it back over the fence. So instead of continuing to run, he spun around to face the animal that was attacking him.

His eyes widened when he realized he was fighting another kitten not much older or younger than himself; a shaggy gray tom, with strong limbs under his thick fur despite his young age. Rusty’s sudden stop took the other tom off guard, suddenly toppling him over before he could skid to a stop. The house cat let out a string of hisses and growls as he struggled once again underneath the mess of the other kitten’s fur. But to his surprise, his attacker didn’t continue to claw at him. And once Rusty stopped writhing about, he noticed the other cat was calmly washing his forepaw as he pinned him underneath his weight. “Uh… excuse me?” the orange cat started to say, still tense. “Could you maybe get off of me?” The strange cat rolled his eyes as if Rusty’s request was a bother. “Okay I guess,” he replied as he stepped off of the other cat. “But if you think about attacking me again, I’ll send you home to your Twoleg den with your pelt inside out.”

Rusty couldn’t help but think about what Smudge had told him. Was this one of the wildcats who could cut through trees with their claws? He doubted it. “Who are you anyway?” he asked the gray cat. 

He laughed under his breath. “I should be asking you the same thing. You _are_ an intruder on ThunderClan territory,” the other tom said, continuing to rasp at the grass clinging to his wild fur. He paused. “But to answer your question, I’m Flintpaw. You fight pretty well for a tame kitty.” Thunder-whatnow? Rusty didn’t know that the forest apparently belonged to someone.

“That’s a strange name,” Rusty said bluntly, the bitterness in his voice still present. Flintpaw’s pelt bristled in annoyance. “Oh yeah? And what’s your name? Fluffy or something? Twolegs give you all weird names, Clan names have _honor_!” he huffed.

“It’s not Fluffy, it’s Rusty,” he growled back.

Flintpaw puffed out his chest fur with a smug smirk. “See, what a weird name.” He gave a dismissive shake of his head. “Anyways, now that I know you’re not from the other Clans, you can run along to your Twoleg den. You’re lucky I’m not a ShadowClan cat, you’d have more than just a couple of scratches.”

Rusty raised a brow. “Other Clans?” he echoed. “There’s more of you?”

Flintpaw gave an impatient hiss. “You’ve seriously never heard of the four Clans that live in this forest? For StarClan’s sake, you really are a sheltered Denpet aren’t you?” The orange tom opened his mouth to respond, but the other cat cut him off. “There’s ShadowClan, WindClan, RiverClan, and most importantly, ThunderClan - that’s the Clan I’m training to be a warrior in. We have to compete for prey to survive! So it’s our job to keep other Clans off our territory!”

He was dumping so much information on him, Rusty couldn’t help but have a confused expression on his face. “But if your life is so difficult, why don’t you just find a Twoleg to take care of you?” he meowed. “If you sit by the fence and look hungry, they’d take you in-”

Flintpaw let out an incredulous squawk in response. “I’d rather _die_ than become a Denpet! Your food looks like rabbit droppings and smelly sludge, and you can’t go outside unless your precious Twoleg lets you!” he spat. “Being a warrior is being free. You aren’t some Twoleg’s toy like you are.” Once he was done with his speech, he let out a mischievous mew. “I bet you haven’t even tasted a mouse, huh?”

The red tom stiffened and then sighed. “No, I haven’t,” he sighed. “At least not yet.” The gray cat tutted. “Well, I guess you’d never know what it’s like to truly live, Rusty. You haven’t got warrior blood; you weren’t born wild,” he said. “If you weren’t born in that Twoleg den of yours, you’d understand.” The house cat thought back on his dream and indignantly mewed: “Not true!”. Before he could get another word out, Flintpaw suddenly bristled coat made him pause. The Clan cat lifted his nose to the air and his eyes widened. “You should go. ThunderClan cats are nearby… If they see you, they wouldn’t be happy about you hunting here.”

Rusty glanced around at the surrounding bushes. He didn’t know how Flintpaw was aware of any approaching cats; to him, the crisp night air smelled just the same. But the other cat’s urgency made him nervous. When he didn’t move, Flintpaw continued. “Run!” he hissed. But Rusty was frozen. He didn’t know which way to go, the wildcats could be all around!

But he was too late. The sound of shifting leaves from behind him made both Rusty and Flintpaw whip their heads around. “What’s going on here?” an unfamiliar voice said as a figure shifted out from the greenery. The new coming cat strolled majestically towards the two cats, her blue pointed fur glowing silver in the moonlight. 

Flintpaw immediately snapped to attention in the presence of the new cat. “I-Ice, I-” he started, cutting himself off to crouch respectfully in front of the cat, motioning Rusty to do the same. Then, another cat followed the first into the clearing. The large golden tabby glared down at the gray tom with cold eyes.

“Flintpaw, what did I say about coming close to the Twolegplace?” the golden cat growled. “Your first night out of camp, and you already are causing trouble.” The gray cat’s ears flattened back against his head “I’m sorry, Lionheart. I just smelled something and I… I didn’t realize how close I was,” Flintpaw meowed. The two larger cats’ eyes rested upon Rusty. Their gazes were cold. Threatening. Nothing like Flintpaw.

The blue molly spoke first. “And who is this?” she asked. Rusty felt vulnerable under her blue stare. It pierced through him.

“Well I figured out he’s no threat,” the other young cat responded. “Just a Denpet, that’s all.” The orange cat felt anger rise in his pelt. He was sick of being referred to as that. He held his tongue, however. As much as he would like to shoot a retort. The molly’s eyes rested intently on him, noticing his irritation. “I’m Icestar, young Denpet. And this is Flintpaw’s mentor, Lionheart,” she said, motioning to the golden tabby with her slender tail. “She’s the Clan’s _leader_ ,” Flintpaw hissed to Rusty under his breath.

Icestar gave a pleased purr to Flintpaw’s introduction. “Both of you, sit up,” she mewed. Her voice had softened slightly. “You fight well for a Twoleg pet.” Rusty looked to Flintpaw with a confused expression. She eased his bewilderment quickly. “Lionheart and I were watching from the trees. We wanted to see how Flintpaw would deal with an intruder without our intervention.” She gave the apprentice the smallest of smiles. “You attacked him bravely.” The gray cat beamed at the praise.

Her attention shifted back to the house cat. “I expected you to flee when you had the chance. I was shocked when you turned to fight, even when you knew he was stronger than you,” she began. The molly paused briefly. “You are an odd Denpet.” Rusty wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to be grateful for her backhanded approval. But he still gave a small nod of thanks. “I was waiting to see when you’d venture into the forest… I’ve often seen you sitting on the leafless trees by your Twolegs’ den,” Icestar glanced down at Rusty with a thoughtful look. “Your youthful energy is on your side. Perhaps you might have caught that mouse if you didn’t hesitate.”

Rusty’s ears perked up. “R-really?” he asked nervously. She responded with a nod. Before she could get any words out, Lionheart jutted in. “Icestar, please. This is a _Denpet_ for StarClan’s sake. You can’t encourage him hunting in our territory.” His meow had respect but also intent. “You should just send him back to his den where he belongs.” The house cat’s pride fizzled out. “Please don’t send me back,” he pleaded. “I promise I’ll leave once I catch a mouse or two.”

Icestar’s calm expression quickly turned to a furious one. “A mouse or two could mean life or death for our Clan!” she snapped, looming over the smaller cat. “Just because you get to eat your pellets whenever you want doesn’t mean there’s enough food to go around out here!” Rusty glanced over at Flintpaw and saw the horror on his face. He quickly realized he had spoken out of line, but that didn’t mean the molly had to get so angry. 

Fear set in once Lionheart stepped to his leader’s side, joining her in towering over the house cat. Perhaps being so comfortable with these wildcats was a bad idea… Perhaps… They were intent on finishing what Flintpaw had started...

* * *

The blue molly’s face was barely a mouse-length from Rusty’s, and he felt his fur prickle with anxiety. “I’m sorry…” His voice trembled as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to threaten your Clan.” Icestar’s anger was unrelenting. “You already have enough food! Why do you need to come into our territory and hunt?” Regret mixed with his fear as her words sunk it. She was right. He was hunting purely for sport. These cats needed all the food they could get. “I… I won’t hunt here again, I promise.”

Her bristled fur fell, and she gave a flick of her tail. Lionheart stepped back and stood next to his apprentice, who sighed with relief when the two older cats backed down. Icestar and Lionheart’s eyes met as if they were communicating something without words. Rusty felt curiosity bubbling within him. But he didn’t want to overstep and ask, risking Icestar’s wrath again. “Is it really so hard to live out here?”

“Of course. We only have control over a portion of the forest,” the molly responded. “The Clans are always fighting for the small amount of resources we have. The forest is only so big.”

Rusty’s eyes widened. “Are there lots of cats in your Clan?”

“There’s enough. ThunderClan is the smallest, though,” she said. “We have enough prey to go around, but none to spare at the end of the day.” The red cat glanced at the three cats in front of him. “So are all of your Clan warriors like you?”

Lionheart interjected again. “Most are warriors. But others are too old, others are too young. And others choose not to hunt or fight, but help the Clan in other ways.” Rusty felt guilty asking so many questions, but so many thoughts raced through his mind upon encountering these strange cats. “So you all share your prey together?” He was beginning to realize how selfish his life was.

For a long moment, Icestar and Lionheart’s eyes met once more. Then, after a few heartbeats, she turned back to Rusty with a calm smile. “Well, Rusty, you seem very interested in our way of life,” she meowed. “Perhaps you would be interested in coming to our camp. Would you like to join ThunderClan?”

He couldn’t speak. He was taken off guard by the molly’s proposition. She continued to speak: “If you choose to join us, you will be like Flintpaw. You’ll train to become a warrior.”

“But!” Flintpaw piped up. “A Denpet can’t be a warrior! He doesn’t have Clan blood!”

“Hush!” Icestar hissed, flicking her tail at the apprentice.

“Flintpaw, Willowcloud does not have Clan blood either, and she is a respectable warrior,” Lionheart spoke gently to his apprentice. The gray cat huffed in annoyance. “Yeah, well that’s different!” The golden tabby ignored his apprentice’s protests and addressed Rusty once more. “We can only offer you training, Denpet. If it is too difficult, we cannot keep you in our Clan.” 

Rusty’s brows knitted together with concern. “But… Why ask me then? Why offer me the chance if you think I’ll fail?” he asked. Icestar was the one to answer. “The truth is, young one, ThunderClan needs more warriors. Our Clan is doomed to be taken over if we cannot fight back,” she said quietly.

“Understand, Denpet, if you choose to join us, you must live like us. If not, you must return to your Twolegs and never return to the forest,” Lionheart told Rusty. “You cannot live with a paw in each world.” Icestar gave a small nod of agreement. “Our Clan cannot guarantee you food or warmth as your Twolegs can. You will need to work hard to survive; be willing to risk your life for the good of your Clan,” she said. “But you will be a real cat, Denpet. You will know what it is like to be a part of something bigger… You’ll be free.”

Her offer was surreal. Rusty had dreamed about living such a life so many nights. The breeze ruffled his fluffy fear. He shuddered, not only from the cool wind but because of the anticipation of what could lie ahead.

Lionheart suddenly interrupted his thoughts. “Icestar. The gathering should be starting soon. We must return to camp,” he said with a flick of his tail. Icestar glanced at the other warrior. “I wonder if Foxtail and Tigerclaw have returned as well…” she muttered, mostly to herself.

Rusty perked up a little. “Wait a minute! Can I think about your offer… Please.”

Icestar hummed in thought for a moment. “Lionheart will meet you here at dawn. You can give him your answer then,” she said with a nod. And with that, her tail gave a strange signal, and the three cats disappeared into the underbrush without another word.

He blinked, taking him a few moments to realize they were gone. He stared from the bushes up at the stars, glittering brightly through the canopy of leaves above. Rusty’s ears pricked to the sudden shout of his name, reminding him of where he had to return to. Even if he knew he needed to go back… Something seemed to pull him back, deeper into the forest towards the life he could have.


	4. 02.

Before Rusty knew it, the sky was beginning to become a dark blue with orange peaking around the horizon. He was unable to sleep with the thoughts racing through his head. Could he really leave his Twolegs to live in the wild? He knew it was the life he wanted, but he couldn’t help but think about how upset they would be when he didn’t return. As pink light flooded into the kitchen and danced about the tiles, he slipped from his nest. He mulled over what he would tell Lionheart as he picked at the pellets his Twoleg had set out for him the night before.

The words Icestar said went through his head as he wriggled from the den into the backyard. He would not be promised food or warmth. Even on the cold nights when snow coated the garden? His Twoleg couldn’t even force him outside when it was like that, so he couldn’t imagine being there his whole life. But would his dreams ever stop if he continued to live as a Denpet? No matter how hard he tried, his mind always wandered back to this decision. His green gaze shifted up towards the neighbor’s den. He spotted a familiar black and white form dozing in the window. Smudge wasn’t awake yet, of course—he could sleep until the sun was in the middle of the sky if he was allowed to. Even if he was up and about, Rusty couldn’t bear to say goodbye. He didn’t mind leaving the lazy house cats that did nothing but mull around all day, but Smudge had been his friend since they were small kittens.

He didn’t give it an extra thought before he hopped up onto the fence post and crossed back over into the forest - if he thought about it more, he would not end up going. The shadows of the canopy above darkened his fur as he sniffed at the moist earth, trying to track the fading scents of the wildcats left from last night. As he rested down on the cool grass, a patch of sunlight shone down on him and warmed his pelt. He almost had forgotten why he was in the forest at that moment. That was, however, until he heard the sound of an approaching cat’s low meow.

“I was sure you would have scented me before you heard or saw me,” the golden tabby noted as he stepped from the dense greenery into the filtered sunlight. “Even a newborn kitten can sense when another cat is around.”

Rusty perked up in surprise. “Sorry!” he replied defensively. “I couldn’t tell if it was new or old.”

Lionheart gave a nod of acknowledgment as he glanced around. “Well, here’s an easier question. Can you tell if I’m alone?”

The red tom sniffed the air. “Icestar and Flintpaw aren’t here,” he noted. “Their scents are more faded than yours is.”

There was distinctly another scent among them, yet it was still unfamiliar. Then, a second cat slunk out from behind Lionheart.

“This is Erminestrike. He’s another Senior warrior of ThunderClan like I am.”

Rusty’s fur bristled and his posture sunk to the ground, his belly brushing against the grass.

The white-furred tom gazed down at him with a near-scowl, his brow cocked and black-tipped tail flicking softly. “No need to be so scared. You’ll draw unwanted attention,” he said, his voice cold and flat.

As Rusty lifted himself back up, Erminestrike leaned forward slightly and curiously smelled him with a wrinkled nose. “He really does reek of Twoleg. Do you really think it’s okay to bring him to camp?”

He looked to Lionheart, who gave a slight nod. “Icestar ordered it,” he responded simply.

Erminestrike let out a small huff, his fur rippling as he did. “I suppose it is nice to meet you then, Denpet. Icestar had told me a lot about you… Flintpaw did as well,” he said, his ears pinning back.

Lionheart jabbed him in the ribs with his tail. “You shouldn’t speak ill of your own kit,” the golden tom scolded, though his tone seemed friendlier than how he spoke to Rusty. It was stern in a fatherly way, a slight purr rumbling under his words.

“I’m not speaking ill!” the white cat’s voice pitched up defensively. “He just gets… overly excited about things.”

Rusty opened his mouth to speak, but Lionheart cut him off. “Yes, well, we can continue this chat in camp,” he stated.

And, within an instant, the two other cats leaped away from the red tom and disappeared into the undergrowth. Rusty stood there for a moment, looking around wildly with his mouth agape. A warning would have been nice, but he remembered what Icestar told him: he shouldn’t hesitate as much. He jumped after them, trailing the two as fast as he could.

He saw the tip of Lionheart’s tail gliding through the shrubbery first. Erminestrike must have sped ahead of the bulkier tom. Rusty found it hard to push past the tightly packed ferns and bushes, and branches scraped lightly against his pelt as he passed through them. The two cats up ahead cleared fallen trees and boulders, not stopping for a moment so Rusty could keep up—but he noticed Lionheart’s pause when they came across a deep gully, the other white tom standing attentively beside him, testing the murky water with a paw. Rusty couldn’t imagine such a cat being Flintpaw’s father. He was slim and graceful while the kitten he met last night was… not.

“Think you can pass?” Erminestrike asked, almost hypothetically.

The red tom nodded emphatically, trying not to flinch from the horrible smell of the slimy water filling the ditch. The Denpet rarely touched water, aside from the relatively clean puddles that collected in the garden after it rained. But he didn’t want to show weakness to the two cats, and followed after them as they stepped into the gully. He held his breath, even though the water only soaked up to his belly fur, as he didn’t want to let the stench into his nostrils. 

Once they crossed, Rusty prepared to sprint again, but Lionheart and Erminestrike stood still. “We’re close. Can you find it?” the golden tom asked him calmly.

He strained his green eyes to try and notice anything that would alert to life. But there were no rustling leaves, no flashes of fur. There was only stillness on the forest floor.

Erminestrike growled impatiently. “Use your nose. You won’t be able to see it with your eyes.”

Rusty listened, closing his eyes and leaning forward to sniff the air. He immediately caught on to the multitude of different scents up ahead. Far more than he was used to.

“I smell them. Up ahead, past the gorse,” he said, looking expectantly at Lionheart.

The golden cat and his clanmate exchanged a glance, amused smiles on their maws. “Soon, you’ll recognize each scent by name,” Lionheart told him, turning to scale further down the ravine towards the gorse.

“If they accept you,” Erminestrike added, poking Rusty in the flank with a paw.

He took the hint and followed after Lionheart towards the unfamiliar scents. The spiny plants brushed up against his thick pelt as he pushed through them, though, he noticed the grass beneath his paws began to thin out as he neared what he assumed was their camp.

Beyond the gorse, Rusty stepped into a large clearing. His eyes followed Erminestrike as he padded off. Short grass lined it, fading into sand around a zig-zagging stream running through the landscape. It came from a rocky cliff surrounding three sides of the camp, the same height of the earth before the gully. Tree stumps and fallen trunks littered the clearing. But among them were many cats, sitting alone or in groups. Some shared food, others were happily grooming one another. His eyes fixed on a pair of older cats, one brown and one a tortoiseshell, laying just outside a fallen tree trunk that was hollowed with age. They were chatting as they licked at each others’ pelts.

“What are they doing?” Rusty asked Lionheart.

“On most days, the Clan will share tongues before sunhigh,” he responded.

The red tom had barely realized that the sun was nearing the center of the sky. Had it really taken them that long to reach camp?

The bigger cat noticed the perplexed look on his face. “Sharing tongues is when we share the news of the day and groom each other. Most of the time, it is carried out by the elders… but it is a tradition that strengthens the bonds between clanmates.”

The two elders had stopped their conversation by now, noticing Rusty’s scent and lifting their heads to stare at him. Many of the other cats in the clearing had joined them. The Denpet lowered his head, pelt burning with embarrassment.

“Perhaps I should show you around,” Lionheart meowed, breaking the tension.

He led Rusty over towards the cliff’s face across from the entrance. Within the rock, there was a large cavern hollowed out, a thick bunch of brambles obscuring sight from within it. Without Lionheart telling him, Rusty couldn’t have guessed what was going on inside.

“This is the nursery,” he noted, “where queens care for their kits.”

Just then, a white molly clumsily squirmed from the gap in the brambles. She gave her chest fur a few rasps before striding over to Lionheart and giving him a lick behind the ear. She barely seemed to realize Rusty was there.

“Hello, Frostberry,” the tom purred. “How are they?”

The molly glanced back at the nursery. “Good,” she said simply. “Rowdy as usual.”

Suddenly, two small kittens popped out from the brambles: one ginger and white molly, and a speckled gray tom. Uncoordinated and bumbling, held up by their tiny limbs.

“Hey! What did your father tell you about…  _ escaping _ !” Frostberry gasped dramatically. “That’s it! You’re going in your nest right now!”

Rusty’s eyes wandered from the pair fussing over their kits towards the rest of the clearing. Many of the cats had continued on their business, giving occasional glances his way. He noticed Flintpaw resting with a gray and cream molly, who was diligently grooming his unkempt fur, while Erminestrike sat nearby. Rusty walked away towards the three cats, and Lionheart seemed to not notice his disappearance.

“Cut it out!” Rusty heard Flintpaw squawk once he was closer, but the molly continued to pull around his fur with her tongue.

“Stay still!” she replied, putting a large paw on his back to try and still him. “You look like a half-eaten squirrel! Your fur’s all a mess!”

The gray kitten looked at her with a scowl. “You’re one to talk!”

Erminestrike hissed lightly. “Don’t talk to your mother that way,” he scolded.

Flintpaw looked like he wanted to respond, but he finally realized Rusty was watching them. “Hey! You actually came!” he said, squirming out from underneath his mother and rushing over to the other young tom.

The fluffy molly behind him also walked over. “Oh! Flintpaw, is this your little friend you were telling me and your father about! He’s so…” She gave him a sniff. “He really is a Denpet…”

She tried to hide her frown. “But I’m sure he’s nice!”

“This is my mom, Willowcloud,” Flintpaw said, gesturing to the molly, who gave a nervous dip of her head. “And you already met my dad, too.”

Willowcloud tilted her head to the side. “Lionheart just let you wander around camp? That’s just asking for trouble.”

Rusty glanced back towards the nursery. “He was supposed to show me around camp, but”—he glanced at Lionheart, who was pretending to chase the two kittens as they hobbled around in a circle—“he seems… busy.”

Flintpaw smiled. “Well, I can give you a tour!”

He seemed eager to get away from his mother’s doting, so Rusty agreed with a nod. “Okay,” he responded and headed off with the gray tom.

Rusty was led towards a fallen log leaned up against a pile of boulders, with the back of it enclosed by more stones. The front was covered with a curtain of ivy and leaves.

“This is the apprentice’s den,” Flintpaw told him. “It’s where we’ll sleep—if Icestar really lets you into ThunderClan.”

They then padded down the clearing, towards the entrance. Another log was nestled between bushes, a large hole hollowed from the side. Before nearing it, Flintpaw grabbed a plump rabbit from a nearby stump where prey was piled up. Rusty wondered if he was going to eat it himself,but instead, he set it down in front of some cats resting outside the fallen tree. Rusty watched curiously.

“Hello, Smallear. Did you all need something to eat?” Flintpaw asked an old tom in the group. Though, as the cluster of five cats had their gazes set on the red tom, Rusty wondered if he had even heard Flintpaw.

After a few moments of silence, the gray cat spoke up.

“Foggygaze and I were about to share this mouse, but we appreciate the extra food, Flintpaw,” Smallear said, voice cracking with age.

The younger cat gave a nod and turned to pad away. “The elders and queens eat before even Icestar. They’ve earned the right to not have to work for their food,” he whispered to Rusty as they left.

Flintpaw noticed the other cat’s tension. “Don’t worry, they’ll be more friendly around you when Icestar announces your Clan name.”

He followed after Flintpaw as he stepped over the small stream running through the clearing towards the other half of camp. He immediately noticed the large jutting ledge from one side of the cliff’s face. Within it was a cavern too deep to see the back of.

“That’s the Highledge. It’s where Icestar will make announcements,” Flintpaw noted, “and that cavern is where her nest is.”

He then motioned to a large bush resting against the ledge, held up with its branches. “And that’s the last den, the warrior’s den. It’s where the older cats sleep.”

Finally, Lionheart walked up behind the two young cats. “Thank you for the help, Flintpaw,” he told his apprentice. “I think it’s time to tell Icestar you’re here.”

He ushered Rusty into the cavern within the Highledge. Flintpaw stayed behind; perhaps he wasn’t allowed in.

The blue molly was laying in a mossy nest, and she rose to her paws at the two cats’ presence.

“He came,” she said simply. “What do you think of him?”

“He kept up well with us on the journey back,” Lionheart noted.

They exchanged glances, seeming to agree on something without words.

“I’ll go announce it, then.” Icestar slid past Lionheart and Rusty to step back into the light. They followed after her, and Rusty watched as she leaped up onto the ledge. 

Icestar let out a yowl, and the chatter across the clearing ceased. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather for a Clan meeting!” she called.

Cats of all ages came from the dens, joining underneath the rocky cliff. Rusty stayed close to Lionheart, as to somehow not bring attention to himself. He was surprised when the cats appeared more focused on their leader than they were on him—though, a few quick glances were thrown his way.

“Everyone, you all know how ThunderClan has been dwindling in numbers recently,” Icestar started, “and if we are to defend our territory against ShadowClan, we must expand our number of warriors.

Rusty noticed that even the leader was anxious underneath her regal demeanor. “That is why… I have once more decided to allow an outsider to train as an apprentice,” she announced. “He is willing to go through the training.”

Silence swept through the clearing for a few moments before a caterwaul burst through it.

“He’s  _ lucky  _ to go through the training.” Rusty whipped his head around to see a pale tabby glaring up at Icestar; a sandy-golden molly sat close next to him, the same sneering expression on her face.

Icestar seemed to ignore the outburst and continued. “Lionheart, Erminestrike, and I have all agreed he is worth the effort. I  _ hope  _ you can trust the opinion of your leader and senior warriors.”

Rusty became increasingly aware of the number of narrowed eyes focused on him, as well as the fear scent emanating from his own pelt. Now, it wasn’t just one or two cats crying out; it was a majority of the crowd.

“Outsider? But he doesn’t smell like any Clan I know of!”  
“He doesn’t even smell like a loner! Where is he from?”

“How could you let such a cat in ThunderClan?”

The protests kept coming until a shrill yowl rang above them all. “Look! Look at his collar!”

It was the pale tabby once again. “He’s a  _ Denpet _ ! Icestar has allowed a Denpet to train here! How can you expect a soft Twoleg toy to defend us?!”

Screams of agreement blurred into an unrecognizable noise. Then, the tabby spoke up again.

“With your pitiful jingling and disgusting stench, you won’t be able to catch a single piece of prey! You’ll let every cat in the forest know exactly where you are, where  _ ThunderClan  _ is!” he cried. “That is, if you don’t end up bringing your Twolegs back here, looking for their lost little toy!”

Lionheart pressed his fur against Rusty’s. “That is Ferretpaw,” he muttered. “Remember how Icestar was impressed with how you defended yourself against Flintpaw. Do not back down now.”

The ginger tom couldn’t move, but he craned his head around to locate the tabby within the crowd again. Cats began to shuffle out of the way, clearing a path between them. Rusty’s pelt finally bristled, and his haunches rose.

“Aw, is the little Denpet angry with me?” Ferretpaw jeered.

But Rusty was not going to run away now. He had to show Icestar and the rest of the Clan he was serious about this.

Suddenly, Rusty flung himself forward with a hiss. The other tom only got a moment to flinch to one side before he was tackled. The two tumbled into the stream, writhing and screaming as the ginger tom sunk his teeth and claws into the other cat’s pelt. Cats had to spring out of the way to avoid getting splashed.

“Get off of him! Someone get him off of Ferretpaw!” a voice screamed.

Rusty assumed the mew belonged to the sandy molly that had been sitting beside the tom. Once the element of surprise had worn off, Ferretpaw was able to gain more control of the fight, returning the scratches and bites, but Rusty fought back with all he could. He felt no fear, only blood pumping through his veins and roaring through his ears. The excited wails of the crowd only made him attack with more fervor. He had to prove that he could defend their Clan.

Rusty lifted his head to see the molly make an attempt to jump at him, but an older cat stepped in her way to block her. While Rusty’s attention was diverted, Ferretpaw jerked his body upward, throwing the ginger tom onto his back. His eyelid clipped against one of the sharp stones lining the creek as he fell over, and he screamed out in pain. He flailed his back paws, trying to kick anywhere on the other tom’s body to get him off of him. He made contact a few times, pushing roughly on the pale tabby’s belly. He managed to flip over onto his back, and tried to sprint away in order to give himself a moment to breathe.

But suddenly, Rusty’s throat began to feel tight. His collar began to constrict around his neck as Ferretpaw tugged at it. As he wriggled and struggled against it, the pressure only became worse. Tears filled his eyes as his breathing became ragged, but the other young cat would not let go despite his strangled cries and gasps for breath.

With all his might, Rusty gave one last thrash away from Ferretpaw’s grip. Then, with a loud snap, air began to fill his lungs once again.

The tabby was thrown back with the mangled collar still clenched in his teeth, and Rusty desperately gulped to catch his breath. He prepared to be tackled once again at any moment.

Icestar jumped down from the Highledge to stand between the two toms, preventing the two from hurling themselves at one another again. She silenced the crowd with a yowl. “Enough!”

Ferretpaw stiffened, dropping the collar onto the ground. Rusty noticed the gash on the pale tabby’s ear, blood pouring down his face and chest. The ginger tom felt a rough cut above his eye that was bleeding just as much. Despite Icestar defusing the situation, their fur was still standing on end, their claws still poking from their paws.

A spotted molly stepped from the crowd with herbs in her mouth. She stared intently at the collar on the ground, then shifted her gaze to Rusty. “Icestar,” she spoke. “I believe StarClan is trying to tell us that they approve of your choice by freeing the newcomer from his Twolegs.”

The leader hummed in agreement. “Then it is settled. If StarClan wishes for him to train as a ThunderClan apprentice, then he shall,” she said assertively, facing the skeptical crowd.

There was no argument this time. The surrounding cats stood solemnly. Rusty stretched his aching muscles and stepped forward into the sunlight, his red fur glowing brightly under it.

Icestar approached him once again, placing the broken fabric before him and touching her nose to his folded ear. “You fought bravely, young one. You will make a great ThunderClan apprentice if you put effort into it,” she told him, her commanding voice softening.

She then lifted her head to face the Clan. “From this day forward, until he receives his warrior name, this apprentice will be known as Maplepaw!”

The rest of the cats looked expectantly towards Maplepaw, who, without hesitating, used a paw to shove dirt over the collar.

“Clan dismissed!”

Maplepaw watched Ferretpaw limp towards the rock wall and slither between the ferns into one of the caverns against its face. Three cats followed after him: the spotted molly, the sandy cat, and another rosy tortoiseshell. The rest of the crowd dispersed, going back to their business.

“Maplepaw!”

The ginger tom turned to see Flintpaw padding over to him. Just hearing his new name made him trill with pride, and seeing the gray tom’s friendly face almost made him forget about his pain.

“You put up a great fight! After that scar on his ear, I know Ferretpaw won’t mess with Denpets anymore!” he chirped. “He’ll stay away from the Twolegplace for a while, that’s for sure!”

Maplepaw couldn’t stifle an amused chuckle. “Thanks. He was tough, though,” he responded, licking his paw and swiping it over his wounded eyelid. As he washed his bloody pelt, calls came from all around, confirming his name to him.

“Good job, Maplepaw!”

“Welcome, Maplepaw!”

“Nice fight, Maplepaw!”

“You got a good name, too!” Flintpaw’s voice snapped him back to the moment. 

The red tom glanced back to the cliff. “What’s that den Ferretpaw went off to?” he asked. It wasn’t a place Flintpaw had shown him.

“Oh!” the gray cat said. “That’s Spottedleaf’s den; she’s our medicine cat. She heals the Clan’s wounds!” He flicked his tail towards the curtain of ferns. “You might want to give her a visit for those cuts… Maybe after Ferretpaw leaves, though—”

A hiss behind Maplepaw cut Flintpaw off. It came from a dark tabby that was sitting near Flintpaw earlier.

“Darkpaw, did you come to pay our newest denmate a visit?”

Maplepaw noticed a similarity between the two apprentices in their markings, although Darkpaw was thin like Erminestrike while Flintpaw was plump and fluffy like Willowcloud.

The dark tom didn’t answer; he just gave the red tom a scowl. “You’re lucky your collar snapped when it did,” he growled. “Ferretpaw is one of the oldest apprentices in the Clan. I can’t imagine all that training going to waste by getting defeated by a  _ Denpet _ .” He spat the word at him.

Before Maplepaw had the chance to say anything, Darkpaw stalked off towards the apprentice’s den.

“Sorry about him,” Flintpaw meowed under his breath. “He wasn’t blessed with either of our parents’ charm.” 

Soon, Maplepaw and Flintpaw made their way to the medicine den, passing by the other apprentices as they went. The red tom tried not to pay attention to their hisses as they walked by one another. Following Flintpaw, he ducked his head underneath the line of ferns growing against the rock wall.

“Hello, Spottedleaf!” Flintpaw said, gaining the attention of the spotted molly.

She was sitting near one side of the den, lapping at a small pool of water that flowed from a crack on the stony wall. She lifted her head with slight surprise and looked to the two apprentices with tired eyes. “Ah, well, well. Here’s our newest apprentice,” she said with a smile, flashing sharp, jutted-out canines. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to get those scratches checked out.”

The tortoiseshell molly stepped closer to Maplepaw, using the light filtering from the holes in the cave’s ceiling to examine his wounds. “Since these are your first cuts outside, I’ll give you some herbs,” she stated. “Better safe than sorry.”

Maplepaw nodded and watched her disappear into the darkness of the cavern.

When Spottedleaf returned, she had a bundle of greens in her mouth. “Now stand still.” She took some spiky-looking plants in her mouth and chewed them, then took the poultice in her paw and rubbed it on his eyelid and a few scratches on his flanks. Maplepaw tried not to wince at the thought of it.  _ She knows what she’s doing. _

The molly then turned to Flintpaw. “Here’s some moss and dock leaves when you help make his nest. Come get more when the leaves start to wilt; they’ll help with his aches.”

The gray apprentice nodded. “Thank you!” 

“Thank you, Spottedleaf,” Maplepaw echoed. 

Spottedleaf gave him a warm smile. “Don’t mention it,” she replied. “Now go tell Ferretpaw not to lick his medicine off. And if you see Tigerclaw, tell him to please give my apprentice back.”

Flintpaw chuckled and bumped against Maplepaw as he turned to exit the den. “Will do!”

When they stepped into the light, Maplepaw noticed the gray elder from earlier sitting stiffly at the edge of the clearing, sniffing about—but the other apprentice took his attention back.

“Willowcloud made me put Darkpaw and my nests together, but I’ll make sure yours is near mine,” Flintpaw said, voice muffled slightly by the herbs in his mouth. “I won’t let Sandpaw bully y—”

Suddenly, the old cat let out a shrill yowl, drawing the attention of the whole Clan.

“Something’s wrong…” Flintpaw muttered, dropping the fresh moss and herbs.

Before Maplepaw had a moment to glance around camp, a young cat burst through the bushes lining the clearing. He immediately noticed the young tom’s skinny frame covered by short black fur.

“Ravenpaw!” Flintpaw gasped. “He left with Foxtail and Tigerclaw last night… but only Mousefreckle came back.”

The little black tom collapsed near the stream, panting heavily as he tried to pull himself towards the center of camp. His eyes were wide with fear, and his coat was dusty and ruffled.

“Who?” Maplepaw asked, his brows knitting together as several cats began to crowd around Ravenpaw.

“Tigerclaw and Mousefreckle are warriors, and Foxtail is Icestar’s deputy,” Flintpaw whispered back. “They were on patrol by RiverClan when we met you… I wonder where they are.”

Icestar headed to Ravenpaw’s side, her blue eyes looking at the apprentice with worry. “Ravenpaw? What has happened?” she asked. While she had concern in her voice, there was a demanding undertone. However, she stepped back when she noticed the dirt around the apprentice was tinged red. “Spottedleaf! Someone get Spottedleaf!” she cried out.

Ravenpaw managed to lift up his head and summoned enough breath to yowl, “Foxtail is dead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll go back and fix any typos i just want to get this out fjkdsjf


	5. 03.

The Clan let out shocked yowls as they crowded around Ravenpaw. The black tom had muttered the strength to shakily get to his paws, swaying back and forth despite his wide stance. Even from a distance, Maplepaw could see a stream of blood coiling down his skinny foreleg from a gash in his shoulder. Though, Maplepaw noted that the tom’s wounds appeared to be deeper than the cuts he had received from his scuffle with Ferretpaw.

The black-furred tom gasped for breath. “RiverClan… S-Sunningrocks… Fo…. Foxtail!” he slurred, finally tumbling over onto his side once again. But his legs immediately went stiff, and his slender tail bristled. “O-Oakheart!” he screamed out before his eyes fluttered shut and he went limp against the dirt.

Maplepaw barely understood a single word in the external stream of consciousness, but the rest of the cats around him seemed horrified.

“Oakheart!” Flintpaw gasped. He glanced at the red tom beside him, realizing he didn’t understand. “Oakheart is RiverClan’s deputy, like Foxtail is—well, _was—_ ours. He’s one of the greatest warriors in the forest! But if I was at those Sunningrocks I would’ve—”An old speckled molly sitting nearby flashed Flintpaw a fierce glare, silencing him for a moment. “I would’ve kicked his fishy tail,” the gray apprentice whispered to Maplepaw.

A black and white tom pushed his way through the crowd and crouched at Ravenpaw’s side, pressing his nose to the young tom’s cheek. Maplepaw wondered who he was. Maybe Ravenpaw’s mentor or family member. “Where is Spottedleaf?!” he cried, whipping his head around towards the cliffside den. 

The tortoiseshell molly stepped from her den, strangely calm as she approached the unconscious apprentice. She placed the bundle of cobwebs in her mouth onto the ground and told the tom to step back. Spottedleaf nosed Ravenpaw onto his belly to look at his shoulder better. 

“He’ll be fine, Patchsong,” she mewed, placing a comforting paw on the bicolor cat’s back. “I just need to get the bleeding to stop and he’ll wake up soon enough.”

She quickly got to work with placing the cobwebs onto the wound. Maplepaw watched her intently from a distance, but his attention was torn away when a mournful howl sounded from the crowd. All of the Clan looked towards the entrance of camp.

A brown tabby padded through the gorse tunnel, a clump of fur dangling from his maw. As he approached, Maplepaw noticed that it was not a piece of prey, but the corpse of another cat. The tabby dragged it towards the base of the Highledge, and Icestar leaped back onto the rock to address him. Maplepaw managed to catch a glimpse of the dead cat’s fluffy ginger tail between the crowd of cats in front of him. 

Flintpaw dropped into a crouch, his head lowered to the ground. “Foxtail…” he mumbled, brows knitted together.

Many other cats took a similar position. Perhaps it was dawning on the Clan that Ravenpaw was telling the truth about the deputy’s death.

“How did this happen, Tigerclaw?” Icestar demanded.

The scruff of Foxtail slipped from the brown cat’s jaws and the body slumped to the ground. “RiverClan cats were hunting at Sunningrocks. Mousefreckle and I attacked them,” Tigerclaw began gruffly, amber gaze fixed up at the leader. “Oakheart struck down Foxtail as he was trying to retreat, but I managed to kill Oakheart while he was gloating over such a cowardly kill.”

Icestar’s head fell. “I doubt we’ll be seeing RiverClan in our territory again,” she stated, her voice cracking with sadness.

After a moment of silence, the crowd of cats approached Foxtail’s body and began to lick his torn, ragged pelt. They began to mutter hushed phrases to the dead warrior as they groomed him. Maplepaw didn’t want to speak up, but he was confused.

“What’re they doing?” he whispered into Flintpaw’s ear.

Flintpaw’s eyes didn’t tear away from the corpse. “Foxtail’s spirit may have left to join StarClan, but the Clan will share tongues with him one last time as a sign of respect,” he responded.

“StarClan?” Maplepaw echoed. He only remembered the three other Clans Flintpaw told him about last night.

“It isn’t a Clan that lives here in the forest,” the gray tom told him. “They watch over us living cats from the sky. You can see them in Silverpelt—the thick band of stars that cross the night sky. Each star is a fallen cat, and Foxtail will be among them tonight.”

Maplepaw nodded, though he didn’t fully understand. Before he could continue questioning him, Flintpaw stepped forward to join the cats at the deputy’s body. The red tom didn’t know whether or not to follow him, so he stayed back.

Once the rest of the Clan paid respects to their Foxtail, Icestar stepped down from the Highledge to slowly walk to his side. The cats who remained at his body retreated away and watched their leader share tongues with her deputy.

Icestar raised her head to speak once she had finished. “Foxtail was a brave warrior and an excellent deputy,” she said, and the Clan listened to her in silence. “He was never swayed by self-interest… He would have made a fine leader.”

Icestar settled down on her belly, paws tucked neatly underneath her and her head bowed. Most of the cats crowded around the clearing began to scatter. However, some stayed behind and took their places beside the leader. Maplepaw figured they must have been close to Foxtail, so they got to sit with him longer. 

Flintpaw had left with the other cats and made his way back to Maplepaw’s side. “Spottedleaf will be sad… and so will Dustpaw,” he remarked.

Maplepaw quickly glanced over to Spottedleaf, who was still sitting with Ravenpaw. Her back was turned to the crowd, but he could notice the corner of her mouth twitching.

“Foxtail was Spottedleaf’s only brother. And Dustpaw was his apprentice.” The gray tom motioned to a small brown tabby resting near Foxtail, whose eyes were fixed down at the ground, unwilling to look at the body of his mentor. 

“How long will they sit there with him?” Maplepaw asked.

Flintpaw shrugged. “Probably all night,” he replied. “He was Icestar’s deputy for many moons and was skilled at his duties. He wasn’t strong like Lionheart or Tigerclaw, but he was very clever.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Foxtail was loved by everyone in ThunderClan... They won’t let go of him that easily.”

Suddenly, Tigerclaw rose up from the group and stalked over towards Spottedleaf and Ravenpaw.

Flintpaw nudged Maplepaw with a paw. “Hey, maybe we should check up on Ravenpaw too,” he suggested.

They stepped away from the grieving cats and settled a distance away from the medicine cat, respectfully waiting for Tigerclaw to leave.

“So, Spottedleaf,” Tigerclaw began. “Will he live? It would just be a shame if you spent so long training him for nothing.”

The tortoiseshell huffed, shaking her head in annoyance. “Yes, because the one thing I’m worried about right now is wasted training.”

Maplepaw assumed she was joking, but her eyes were narrowed to slits. He couldn’t imagine being bold enough to be cross with a cat that was intimidating as Tigerclaw. The red tom held his breath as he watched their interaction.

“Will he live?” the brown tabby repeated, seeming to not even react to the molly’s anger.

“Of course he will,” she replied simply.

Tigerclaw snorted and looked down at Ravenpaw, then jabbed him with a front claw. “Get up, then,” he growled. “You aren’t a kit, you can tend to your own wounds.”

Spottedleaf stiffened and hissed at the brown tom. “Stop it!” she said, pushing his paw away. “You know nothing about what he needs!”

Tigerclaw glared down at the tortoiseshell, and Maplepaw prepared for a fight to break out between them, but the large tom simply nodded and turned to leave. However, he caught sight of the two apprentices watching him.

“Who’s this?” he asked Flintpaw.

The gray tom mewed, “He’s the new apprentice.”

“He smells like a Denpet,” Tigerclaw huffed, nose wrinkling.

“I was one, but Icestar’s going to train me to be a warrior!” Maplepaw said proudly. He puffed out his chest. He had already made the mistake of showing fear once, and he didn’t want to make it again.

The brown tabby raised a brow. “Right, I remember Icestar’s mentioned you,” he responded. “But I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Maplepaw opened his mouth to reply, but the large tom began to walk off before he could get a word out. glanced at the other cat beside him. “Do you think he liked me?” he asked.

Flintpaw snorted. “I don’t think Tigerclaw likes any apprentices. Not even his own!”

Just then, Ravenpaw’s large ears twitched and one of his eyes opened. “Is he gone?” he asked.

Flintpaw tilted his head as he trotted towards him. “Who? Tigerclaw? Yeah, he’s gone.”

Maplepaw gave the other apprentice a smile. “Hey there,” he began. “I’m Maplepaw. Nice to meet you.”

The medicine cat turned to them with an annoyed look, but it softened upon seeing them. “Oh, Maplepaw,” she mewed. “I’m guessing Flintpaw ruined that bedding. I should have more to spare in my den, I need to move Ravenpaw there anyways.”

Maplepaw followed Spottedleaf back towards the cliff face, allowing Ravenpaw to lean his weight against him. He helped the black tom into one of the neatly-formed nests before watching Spottedleaf disappear into the back of the cave. The red tom took a few steps after her, only vaguely being able to make out her form in the darkness. 

“Spottedleaf…” Maplepaw muttered, “I’m sorry—about Foxtail. Flintpaw told me he was your brother…”

The tortoiseshell laughed dryly. “You just got here and he’s already sharing my business with you?” she joked, then let out a sigh. “It’s alright. He knew the risks when he became deputy: you get a target on your back for all the other Clans to see. And I knew one day he’d eventually sacrifice himself for the Clan.”

The apprentice wasn’t sure what to say. He barely knew his siblings, but losing one would feel awful. He sat in silence until she returned with a fresh bundle of moss and dock leaves.

“Now, don’t ruin this. I’m not sure how much more bedding I can spare,” Spottedleaf told him.

Maplepaw nodded a goodbye to both her and Ravenpaw, then left the den to find Flintpaw.

The gray tabby had found his way back to the elder’s den among the old cats he saw earlier. He was sitting with them, listening politely as they ate and chattered. Maplepaw waited to approach them.

“Foggygaze, when you see your son, send him my condolences,” a light brown tom meowed to the pale molly next to him, who tutted. 

“Oh, you know Flashfoot,” Foggygaze said. “He doesn’t want pity from anyone.”

An old chocolate calico rolled her eyes. “The poor tom’s mate has just died, he deserves a little pity.” She looked up and noticed Maplepaw watching. “Well, well, if it isn’t our newest apprentice.”

A graying brown tabby shoved her with a paw. “You’re going to scare the poor thing! Come on, little one,” he said to Maplepaw.

The apprentice stepped forward and sat down next to Flintpaw. He noticed that his friend’s comforting words from earlier were right. They _did_ warm up to him after he received his Clan name.

The gray tom next to him spoke up next. “Why don’t I introduce you to everyone,” Flintpaw said. “This is Sparrowpelt, Dapplestep, Foggygaze, Smallear, and Thrushlight.” He motioned to the brown tabby, the chocolate calico, the white molly, the gray tom, and the light brown tom respectively. “They’re the oldest members of the Clan.”

“Welcome to the Clan,” Smallear purred. The other elders nodded in agreement. “Have you two eaten yet?”

The two apprentices shook their heads.

“Well, we have enough to spare here. You apprentices are growing to be fine hunters,” the old gray tom meowed. “Would you all mind if these two youngins shared a mouse?”

The white molly beside him, Foggygaze, shook her head. Maplepaw could notice that one of her eyes was cloudy and sightless.

“What about you three?” she asked the others.

“Of course not,” Dapplestep replied.

Flintpaw smiled. “Thank you!” he mewed eagerly. He stepped forward and grabbed a plump mouse from the pile of prey, then dropped it at Maplepaw’s feet. “Have you still never tasted a mouse before?” he asked.

Maplepaw carefully placed the moss and herbs down, making sure not to ruin it again. “No, I haven’t,” he admitted. While he could already scent the warm smells coming from the fresh-kill, he couldn’t imagine how it actually tasted.

“In that case, I’ll let you have the first bite this time,” Flintpaw said. “Just make sure to leave me some!”

The red tom crouched down and took a large bite from the mouse. It felt strange to bite into something fleshy. It was nothing like the pellets his Twolegs had given him, and it tasted so much better.

“How is it?” Flintpaw asked.

Maplepaw lifted his head up, mouth still full with prey. “Great!” he mumbled, putting a paw to his mouth.

Flintpaw laughed and nudged him to the side. “Well, move over then!” he mewed, resting down beside the other apprentice.

They shared the rest of the mouse as they listened to the elders continue their chatting.

“Dapplestep, do you remember when Icestar was made deputy?” Foggygaze asked her. “It was so many moons ago, but it feels like it was just yesterday.”

The calico nodded. “Of course,” she replied, glancing over at Thrushlight. “It wasn’t long after you both lost your kits, right?”

Maplepaw looked to the brown tom as he lowered his head in response. He had kits with Icestar? But they didn’t act how he would imagine mates acting towards each other. But he didn’t want to pry at the situation. Perhaps they had just grown apart. 

“She won’t be happy to appoint a new deputy,” Smallear said, apparently wanting to change the subject. “Foxtail was her first deputy. But she’ll need to make up her mind soon.”

“Why?” Maplepaw asked. He immediately regretted butting into the conversation and tried giving a sheepish smile, although the elders didn’t seem to mind him speaking up.

“Leaders need to pick their new deputies before moonhigh,” Thrushlight told him gently. “If they were to somehow die before, what would we do then?”

The apprentice nodded in understanding.

Then, Sparrowpelt meowed, “At least time the choice is obvious.”

Maplepaw lifted his head and looked around the clearing, trying to follow the elders’ gazes to see who they were referring to. He spotted Tigerclaw sitting with Darkpaw not too far away from them, his tattered ears angled towards the conversation. The red tom could understand why Icestar would make the brown tabby her deputy. After all, he was the one to avenge Foxtail’s death.

As Maplepaw groomed the remaining taste of mouse from his whiskers, he heard Icestar’s voice call from the Highledge. He stayed to listen from where he was, pushing around the ball of moss and leaves at his paws. He could catch a glimpse of Foxtail’s body from his spot, his dark brown and red pelt almost silver in the fading light.

“I must appoint a new deputy,” the leader announced. “But first, let us honor the life of Foxtail. Tonight, he will be sitting amongst our fallen warriors of the past.”

The Clan silently looked up to the darkening sky.

“I say my choice before Foxtail’s body, so his spirit may hear and approve of it.”

Maplepaw couldn’t help but look back towards Tigerclaw, who was sitting just below the Highledge. Even from the distance, he could see the hunger in the dark tabby’s amber eyes. 

“Lionheart,” Icestar meowed. “Lionheart will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

The red tom tried to gauge Tigerclaw’s reaction, but he couldn’t pick up on any anger as he went to congratulate his fellow warrior.

“Why didn’t she pick Tigerclaw to be deputy?” Maplepaw murmured to Flintpaw.

“Lionheart has been a warrior for longer; he has a lot more experience,” Flintpaw whispered back. He was grinning with pride. It must’ve felt good to see his mentor become deputy.

Icestar spoke up again. “Foxtail was also mentor to Dustpaw. Since we cannot afford to delay any apprentice’s training, I will assign him a new one,” she said. “Flashfoot will be his mentor. I’m sure Foxtail will be proud to see his mate carry on his mentorship.”

The pale brown warrior nodded and padded over to Dustpaw. The two awkwardly touched noses. Dustpaw gave a respectful flick of his tail, but his eyes were still dull with grief over his former mentor.

“I will keep vigil for Foxtail tonight before he is buried at sunrise,” the leader announced. She jumped down from the Highledge and laid beside the body once more. Many other cats joined her, Dustpaw and Flashfoot among them. Maplepaw saw Spottedleaf slink out from her den and rest beside her brother, her eyes clenched shut. She seemed to be trying to contain her emotion in front of her Clanmates.

“Should we sit with them?” Maplepaw asked the other apprentice. He honestly didn’t like the idea. After such a long day, all he wanted to do was curl up somewhere dry and warm to sleep.

Flintpaw shook his head. “No, only those who were closest to Foxtail will sit vigil for him on his final night,” he responded. “Come on, I’ll help you make your nest.”

Maplepaw gathered the moss and the two followed the other apprentices as they headed towards the apprentices’ den. “How many other apprentices are there?” he asked.

“Well, you’ve met everyone except Dustpaw and—”

Flintpaw was cut off by a hiss. It was the sandy molly who had tried to attack Maplepaw earlier.

She stepped in front of Maplepaw as he tried to enter the den.

“Hello?” he said with a questioning tone.

“Please tell me you’re not sleeping in here,” she spat. “You can’t expect me to get a wink of sleep when the whole den smells like a Denpet!”

Maplepaw didn’t expect her to like him overnight, since he attacked Ferretpaw, but he didn’t expect her to be so open about her hate when the rest of the Clan seemed to accept him already.

“Move along, Sandpaw,” Flintpaw said, almost laughing. “Don’t worry, she’s just mad that her brother got kicked to WindClan and back by a Denpet.”

Maplepaw jabbed Flintpaw with his tail. He didn’t really feel like fighting another cat today.

With a huff, Sandpaw shoved her way past the ivy curtain in front of the den.

Flintpaw followed after her, inviting Maplepaw in with a flick of her tail. Inside, the floor was lined with leaves, and the back wall of rocks were smeared with moss. It was warmer than outside and smelled of ferns and rich greenery. The other apprentices were either adjusting their nests or lying down.

“Hey, Ferretpaw,” Flintpaw said, “Spottedleaf said not to lick your medicine off.”

The tom didn’t even lift his head; he just flicked his tail in annoyed acknowledgement.

Flintpaw stepped around the others to reach his own nest near Darkpaw’s. “Alright, put the moss down,” he told Maplepaw.

Darkpaw looked up with a scowl. “Really?” he hissed.

Flintpaw only stuck his tongue out at his littermate and began to shape the moss and dock leaves into a nest. “Alright, you can adjust it however you want,” he told the red tom.

Maplepaw nodded and stepped into the nest, circling around a few times before settling down.“Goodnight,” he whispered to Flintpaw, who echoed a reply.

The red tom’s eyes fell shut with contentment as his body buzzed with excitement at the thought of tomorrow: his first real day as a ThunderClan apprentice.


	6. 04.

Maplepaw dug his claws into the bark of a pine tree, scaling up the tall trunk in pursuit of a squirrel. He climbed up and up, but couldn’t seem to get any closer to the prey, its bushy tail just out of reach from his claws. As the two breached the layer of thick branches and needles, the squirrel seemed to slow. He managed to catch up to the creature and gripped its tail in his teeth to pull it down to him. He shifted to rest on the branch with the prey in his mouth, he caught his breath. Though, the squirrel continued to wriggle in his grasp.

“Maplepaw!”

The red tom’s head perked up and he glanced around. There were no other cats around that he could see among the branches. And upon looking at the ground, he could see no one there either. Perhaps it was just his imagination.

“Maplepaw! Hey, Maplepaw!”

The voice was now right in his ear. He looked down at the squirrel in his mouth. It was now looking at him with its dark, beady eyes, before opening its tiny mouth and calling his name once again. “Come on, Maplepaw!”

The apprentice shrieked and dropped the squirrel, watching it fall from the branch and catch its footing lower down. In his surprise, he slipped from his perch. He tried to grab at anything to regain his balance, but he continued to crash through the branches and get poked with needles. He managed to flip onto his belly as the ground reached closer and closer, and once he was a moment away, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Maplepaw!”

His green eyes tore open to be met with another pair of amber ones. He shuffled backwards before realizing he was in his nest once again.

“Geesh, I thought you were never going to wake up. I had to beg Lionheart to let you sleep in even a wink past sunrise,” Flintpaw meowed.

Maplepaw looked around the den. It was empty besides the two of them, and the yellow light of early dawn flooded over the moss and leaves. He got up with a stretch and attempted to give his forepaw a few rasps to dislodge a clump of moss from his fur, but Flintpaw’s impatient thumping of his foot cut him off.

“There’s no time for that! Lionheart and Tigerclaw are waiting!” the gray tabby said, turning to duck out of the den.

The red tom sighed with annoyance and hurried after him.

He bounded after the other apprentice, leading him towards the eastern wall of camp. Flintpaw didn’t hesitate before hopping up to it by gripping onto the slotted rock along the thin waterfall.

“We have to go up there?” Maplepaw asked.

Flintpaw gave a quick nod. “Don’t be scared, just follow my movements,” he assured him, giving a flick of his bushy tail. The gray tom slowed his climbing a bit so Maplepaw could keep up. Only stumbling a few times, he managed to crawl his way up after Flintpaw. He took a moment to catch his breath, and enjoyed the wind ruffling through his fur.

“Good job!” Flintpaw purred, turning to lead him through the surrounding wall of gorse towards a stone-dotted clearing. “It’ll just be me, you, and Darkpaw. Dustpaw and Sandpaw are hunting, and Ferretpaw is stuck with den-cleaning duty.” He let out a chuckle before bounding across the sloping valley. “Bet I can beat you to the Training Hollow!”

Maplepaw smiled and ran in pursuit of him. “No fair! I don’t even know where that is!” he called.

Pebbles slung through the short grass and their paws scuffled across it. Scaling the wall gave the red tom a newfound confidence; he pushed himself forward against the dirt and threw himself into the other apprentice, toppling both of them over. The two rolled around in a laughing pile before thudding at the bottom of the hill.

“Well, it took you long enough.”

Maplepaw lifted his head to see Darkpaw standing just at the nearby treeline, his tail lashing with annoyance. 

“Oh lighten up, you overgrown porcupine,” Flintpaw started to huff, but stopped once a larger figure snaked from the trees beside Darkpaw.

“Come on, you two,” Tigerclaw hissed as he stepped out into the early morning light. “You’ve made Lionheart wait long enough.”

Flintpaw and Maplepaw nodded in unison, wanting to avoid being yelled at more, and followed after the two cats. They padded through the trees, the ground continuing to slope down beneath their paws. Soon, they reached a dip in the earth, not as deep and wide as the gorge camp was held in, and the ground was covered with pale sand. Lionheart was sitting a few tail-lengths away from them in the center of the hollow. His small ears twitched at their presence and he lifted his amber eyes to greet them as they approached. Maplepaw flinched slightly, preparing to be lectured again by the golden tom, only for him to give the group a surprisingly warm grin.

“Ah, good morning,” Lionheart called, lifting himself to his paws to meet them. He noticed Tigerclaw’s frown and nudged him with his tail as he approached them. “Calm yourself, Tigerclaw. We’ve made it before sunhigh, and that’s all that matters.”

The brown tabby growled. “They were supposed to be here at dawn,” he replied harshly. “Apprentices must be punctual. How else will they learn the discipline they need to be useful warriors?”

Lionheart raised his shoulders into a shrug. “Let them be apprentices, Tigerclaw,” he stated calmly before turning to the three younger cats. “Now, Maplepaw, Icestar hasn’t assigned you a mentor just yet. So Tigerclaw and I will teach you for the time being.”

Maplepaw nodded, puffing out his chest. He wasn’t entirely fond of Tigerclaw, but he was still proud to be taught by two senior warriors. Flintpaw gave Maplepaw an excited smirk, but Darkpaw snorted at the prospect of sharing a mentor

“We should be going,” Tigerclaw said impatiently. “We are going to patrol the edges of the territory to make sure you do not pass into any other Clan’s territory. And it wouldn’t hurt to remind Flintpaw and Darkpaw of our borders.”

The red tom saw Flintpaw’s round ears pin back sheepishly. It seemed that the warriors were still angry with him over entering the Twolegplace.

Without another word, the brown tom turned to leap out of the hollow towards the trees. Darkpaw was right behind him, and Lionheart and Flintpaw headed off soon after. Maplepaw immediately scrambled off towards them, kicking up some of the soft sand. He was beginning to get sick of chasing after his new Clanmates.

The trees were thick in this part of the forest, birch and ash trees dwarfed by massive oaks. Maplepaw trailed behind the other cats, dodging the crisp dead leaves they disturbed with their paws. They paused before a Twoleg path lined out in dirt, too wide for them to clear in one jump. Tigerclaw wandered off up the path to mark a more northern border.

Lionheart stepped a bit towards the path and looked to the red tom. “Do you smell anything, Maplepaw?” he asked him.

Maplepaw sniffed at the dirt. “I smell a Twoleg and their dog,” he told the warrior. “They must have walked through here.”

“Good,” Lionheart meowed. “Is it safe to cross?”

The red tom nodded. “They’re gone,” he replied. Their scents were faint against the fresh smells of the forest.

Tigerclaw soon rejoined them, and the five cats stalked from beneath the ferns and crossed the stony path. 

Rather than a mix of different types of trees, the forest on the other side consisted of only pine. They were planted tall and straight, lined in countless rows similar to how they were in his dream. Unlike the woods they came from, it was easy to walk silently. No dead leaves covered the ground—only fallen needles that padded their steps. There was also no undergrowth for the cats to hide in, and Maplepaw would sense that his Clanmates were tense being out in the open, only able to walk unguarded between the tree trunks.

Darkpaw slowed to walk alongside the red tom and nudged him with his tail.“Have you ever seen the Tree-Eater, Denpet?” he asked. The dark tabby’s smug grin faded when Lionheart shot him a glare. “Sorry, sorry. Have you ever seen the Tree-Eater,  _ Maplepaw _ ? I mean, the Tallpines is close enough to the Twoleg Place.”

Darkpaw seemed to enjoy the fact that Maplepaw was confused by all the names he was throwing at him.

“The Tree-Eater is the creature that destroys the trees here — the Tallpines,” Flintpaw explained. “It makes a terrible rumbling noise and spits out smoke! Willowcloud told me it’s usually around more in leafbare… but I haven’t seen it much these past few moons.”

Maplepaw recognized what Flintpaw was talking about — or at least, he could remember hearing its roars from his garden. But he had never seen it himself. “The Twoleg Place is that way,” Tigerclaw noted, motioning with his tail in its direction. “But we are going to head the other way towards the borders.”

The cats looped back around and headed across the Twoleg path towards the lush forest once again. However, instead of turning to return to the Training Hollow, they continued straight. Maplepaw could scent the strong smells of the running water as they walked, and he could sense the anxiety in his Clanmates.

“The Sunningrocks…” Flintpaw murmured as they came upon a large mound of boulders at the shore of the river.

Maplepaw’s fur bristled. This is where Redtail was killed. He couldn’t help but feel unnerved at its presence.

Lionheart stopped Maplepaw from stepping forward. “The Sunningrocks are RiverClan territory now. It would be a good idea not to cross,” he told the apprentice. “Can you smell them? This is their hunting ground.”

The red tom immediately took in the pungent smell of unfamiliar cats. It was surprisingly different from the warm smells of ThunderClan cats that he had already grown comfortable with.

Maplepaw shivered when he saw something moving just below the surface of the water. The head of a cat breached to stare at the group with cold yellow eyes. Suddenly, several cats snaked from the river and stepped onto the shore. Their pelts were sleek and shiny, and they were noticeably more plump than most of the cats Maplepaw had seen in ThunderClan. The group of cats watched them carefully for a moment, before marking their territory and trotting off into the forest.

“I don’t understand… Why don’t the Clans just share their hunting grounds instead of fighting each other?” Maplepaw asked, still uneasy from the sight of another Clan.

The other cats stood in shocked silence.

Tigerclaw was the first to speak. “Watch your tongue. That is treacherous thinking, Denpet,” he snapped.

“Calm down, Tigerclaw,” Lionheart warned. “You speak from your heart, Maplepaw. It will make you a better warrior one day. But you must understand, this is the way that Clans have always been, and we have survived like this for countless generations.”

“If you continue to think with your heart instead of your brain, you’re better off with your Twolegs,” the brown tabby hissed.

The golden tom ignored him and turned to keep walking. “We’ll travel to ShadowClan’s border, and then we’ll return to camp,” he told the other cats before starting off with Tigerclaw.

Maplepaw sighed and watched Darkpaw trot after his mentor. Flintpaw stayed back with him. “Hey, lighten up. Tigerclaw is just like that,” he told the red tom. “If he doesn’t bite your head off on any given day, he needs to be sent to the medicine den.”

Once the two apprentices caught up, the ThunderClan cats continued along the river until it became narrow. Smooth rocks were littered through the water, forming perfect stepping stones to the other side. Lionheart and Tigerclaw crossed first, followed by Darkpaw.

When the dark tabby was halfway across, he glanced back. “Don’t slip,” he jeered and nimbly hopped the rest of the way. He was quickly hushed by Lionheart, who reminded him they were still close to enemy territory.

Flintpaw rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you cross first?” he asked Maplepaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll spot you.”

The red tom gave a tiny nod and stepped onto the first stone. It was slippery, but his paw pads allowed him to grip onto it well enough. He brought all his paws onto it before moving to the next stone. In no time, he and Flintpaw were safely on the other side of the river.

The ThunderClan cats followed the river where the trees became more scarce and the crisp scents of the forest were soon overpowered by those similar to the Twoleg Place. Maplepaw started to hear a humming that ached his ears, similar to the Tree-Eater Flinterpaw told him about. The river then ducked under a strange, artificial cavern.

“We’re approaching the Thunderpath,” Lionheart told Maplepaw as the group climbed up the small hill surrounding the river.

Maplepaw took in the sight of it. The Thunderpath was a strip of hard, dark stone that stretched farther than the river, splitting the forest in two. Its smell became even more bitter as he sat before it.

In the next moment, he leapt back, his fur bristling as a strange creature roared past him on the path. The branches on the trees of both sides waved madly in the wind that chased the creature. Maplepaw was unable to speak and just stared at the other cats. He had seen similar creatures around his Twoleg’s den, but they had never sped down the paths so fast.

“The Monsters scared me the first time too,” Flintpaw remarked, “but at least they keep ShadowClan warriors from crossing into our territory. Only a mousebrain would try to walk the Thunderpath on most days.”

Darkpaw snorted. “Just stay away from the path and you’ll be fine. The Monsters seem too dumb to leave it.”

“You’ve seen all the borders now, Maplepaw. We should return to camp now,” Lionheart meowed. “I expect you’re tired… and hungry.”

Maplepaw hated to admit that he was right, especially in front of Tigerclaw and Darkpaw. Both cats thought less of him, so he didn’t want to do anything to make it worse. Even so, the new scents and smells were spinning around in his head and overwhelming him. Conceding, he trailed behind Flintpaw as they turned back towards the quarry.

* * *

The following morning, Maplepaw managed to wake before sunrise. However, he found himself alone in the den once again—even Flintpaw was absent. He wasted no time in retracing yesterday’s steps towards the Training Hollow. He had anticipated seeing Flintpaw and Lionheart waiting for him, but Tigerclaw was the only expected cat among the group today.

Upon nearing the cats, Maplepaw recognized Ravenpaw and Ferretpaw. The red tom immediately felt nervous about training with the other apprentices. What if Ferretpaw still held a grudge? Maplepaw didn’t feel like fighting with him all over again. And he couldn’t help but stare at the deep gash still in Ferretpaw’s ear.

His attention quickly shifted to the unfamiliar molly sitting with them. She looked similar to Tigerclaw, with her broad shoulders and cold amber gaze. “Greetings, Maplepaw,” she said in a raspy voice as he stepped towards them.

“Flintpaw and Darkpaw are hunting today, so you will be training with Ravenpaw and Ferretpaw,” Tigerclaw explained. “This is Leopardsmoke, Ferretpaw’s mentor.”

The dark molly dipped her head in a greeting, and Maplepaw awkwardly reciprocated. He couldn’t help but be intimidated by her large size and harsh features.

“I thought Ravenpaw was Spottedleaf’s apprentice,” Maplepaw said nervously. The small black apprentice was shoving a small pile of dirt around with his paw absentmindedly, only briefly glancing up at the red tom with blank eyes.

“He is. But Spottedleaf has allowed me to train him today,” Tigerclaw replied flatly.

Leopardsmoke quickly interjected. “ _ Only _ if I were to supervise,” she corrected. “She hates how cruel you are to the poor thing, and frankly, I don’t blame her.” She spoke as if Ravenpaw wasn’t sitting right there, and the apprentice just nervously looked around as they talked about him.

Maplepaw could notice Tigerclaw let out an annoyed grunt under his breath. “Yes, well, you were the poor molly who raised me, right?” he asked, sarcasm lacing his voice.

“And I thought I had done a better job—” the dark molly started.

She was cut off by Ferretpaw suddenly blurting out, “Can we please just start training?” He was clearly sick of listening to the mother and son continue to argue, and Maplepaw couldn’t help but agree.

Leopardsmoke snorted at her apprentice. “Of course,” she responded curtly. “But I expect you to set a good example for Maplepaw on his first day of training. Let’s see your hunting crouch.”

The silver tom’s eyes wandered to Maplepaw and narrowed at him. He slid down onto bent legs, his sandy belly just brushing against the similarly colored ground. Maplepaw noticed his lean muscle shifting under his short spiky pelt as he crept forward, and found himself shocked he was able to overpower such a cat.

“Good,” Leopardsmoke said, circling around her apprentice to study his form. “How about you two try. Copy Ferretpaw’s stance if you can.”

Maplepaw nervously crouched down, bending his legs slightly and lowering his chest. He felt his fur prick up as the two warriors eyed over him. Ravenpaw got up and followed in suit. Though Maplepaw could notice that his stance was awkward, even more so than his own.

“Ravenpaw! Keep your rear down, you look like a duck!” Tigerclaw spat. “And Maplepaw, you look so clumsy a blind-deaf mouse would sense you!” 

Ravenpaw looked to take the harsh criticism well, as if he was used to it. But Maplepaw sat up quickly in shock. He knew his crouch wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t think Tigerclaw’s cruelty was necessary.

Leopardsmoke appeared to think the same. “Hush!” she spat at the brown tabby. “You looked the same way as an apprentice! Just because Thistleclaw snapped you into shape doesn’t mean you can do the same to these apprentices.”

Ferretpaw rolled his eyes with an almost undetectable hiss. He obviously had witnessed his mentor bicker with Tigerclaw often, to the point where he was clearly annoyed by it. Maplepaw was beginning to see the other apprentice as a fellow Clanmate, rather than just someone who mocked and attacked him.

Tigerclaw ignored his mother and towered over Ravenpaw. “I would feel ashamed if I were you,” he growled, “being shown up by a Denpet.”

“Enough,” Leopardsmoke spoke up again. “How about we let them try to catch real prey. It’s better training than being yelled at by you all day.”

The brown tabby snorted. “Fine. Let’s see how the three of you track and stalk,” he said. “It’ll be interesting to see how you perform.”

The three apprentices trotted off into the bushes in different directions. Even Ravenpaw seemed a bit energetic at the thought of hunting.

Maplepaw tried his hardest to spot any signs of life against the greenery. He strained his nose to catch even the tiniest of prey scents. Then, he sensed a mouse among the overwhelming smell of ferns. His body burned his tension as he crept forward, avoiding any dead leaves or loose branches. After a few pawsteps, he caught sight of the tiny brown creature. Then, his ears pricked up at an unfamiliar sound. He turned to see another cat stalking through the bushes, coming towards the mouse from the side. Maplepaw immediately knew it was Ferretpaw from the flash of silver fur he saw.

Suddenly, the other apprentice burst from the underbrush towards the mouse. It began to scurry off, but Ferretpaw gave chase. Maplepaw hissed when he realized he was stealing his catch, but then he remembered what Icestar told him: he could have caught that mouse if he didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, he sprung after the other cat after the fleeing prey.

He spotted Ferretpaw’s slender tail zipping through the greenery, and Maplepaw followed after the sight of it. He was surprised when he began to reach closer and closer to the other cat, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He scraped his paws against the ground faster than he ever thought he could and ignored the pain in his muscles as he pushed on. The red tom quickly was shoulder to shoulder with the slender cat. And the silver tabby’s shock slowed him long enough for Maplepaw to get a lead on him and see the mouse once again.

Maplepaw lunged forward, scooping the prey in his paws and throwing it against the nearest tree. Before it could scramble away, he pounced on it and killed it with a single quick bite. Ferretpaw padded over to him, his maw agape in surprise, before his expression quickly turned to a scowl as Leopardsmoke padded out from the bushes.

“Good catch, Maplepaw,” she said quietly. Her tone didn’t give off much emotion, but Maplepaw still was proud of the aloof praise. “Now, let’s go see if Ravenpaw managed to snag anything.”

The red tom picked up the mouse and pranced after the dark molly. He turned his head to say something to Ferretpaw, just to clear the air, but the tom’s tiny snarl stopped Maplepaw from saying anything. He tried to focus his thoughts on his accomplishment: his first kill as a ThunderClan apprentice. It made him feel warm inside, despite the cold eyes staring hatefully after him.


End file.
